Surprises and Secrets in the Night - Dramione
by half-soul57
Summary: Chapter One of Dramione Series: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger - who always seemed to hate each other for the entirety of their six years at Hogwarts - meet under the most unusual of circumstances, and surprise one another with revealing to each other who they really are.


Hermione wandered through the corridors of Hogwarts, deep in the night. It was her sixth year - after all her late night misadventures with her close friends Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, she wasn't quite as afraid of her expulsion of the school of witchcraft and wizardry as she used to be.

Somehow, she had come to the first floor, walking towards Moaning Myrtle's lavatory. Inwardly, she groaned. She didn't really want to deal with the ghost who truly "lived" up to her title. As Hermione turned to get as far away from the haunted lavatory as possible, she stopped. Was that sobbing she heard coming from that haunted room? The voice - though it was distressed and weeping - sounded familiar to her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on who it was. That bothered her immensely.

Hermione sighed and turned on one heel back towards the lavatory. She felt the need to help whoever it was. If she could, anyhow.

She peered into the room, only her head poking in, praying that Myrtle wouldn't see her and announce her presence to whomever was still sobbing inside. Swallowing down her fear, Hermione stepped inside, as quietly as she could, and then jumped back, completely startled at who stood before her. His back was turned to her, hands resting on the sinks on either side of him, looking half into the mirror, and half down into the sink. His sleeve was rolled up, and the Dark Mark, brand of the closest followers of Voldemort, was shown. She would recognize his platinum hair and pale skin anywhere. It was Draco Malfoy.

Seeing her in the mirror behind him, Draco whipped around, trying to pull himself together, to bring back the cold mask he wore whenever he had to be around this filthy little mudblood.

His voice shook, as he spat out, "What are _you _doing here, Granger?" He looked taken aback, and couldn't quite manage to sound as haughty as he normally could around her - which only angered him… but not quite enough to erase the feelings of stress that threatened to overwhelm him every second - the pressure of being forced to become a Death Eater at such a young age, with the looming threat of death if he did not accomplish his horrid task. The most secretive task.

"I… well, I heard you. I heard your crying from the corridor…" Hermione said, "I didn't realize it was you." "I'm sorry," she quickly added. She tentatively took a step towards him, within arm's reach. "I promised myself that, if I could, I would help whoever was crying like that… So please let me help you, Draco," she said, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but quickly dropping her hand, and her head. She couldn't do that. He hated her, called her a "mudblood," thought her unworthy and filthy. She should have left the moment she saw him.

Draco was startled. Never, in his six years of knowing Granger, had she ever used his first name. They avoided each other, perhaps even hated each other… or so he thought. But there Hermione Granger stood before him, a muggle-born witch who excelled in magic - an anomaly in his eyes.

And she wanted to help him, despite how horribly he had treated her for six long years. She wanted to ease his pain. She didn't even know what was wrong, and he couldn't even explain it, yet Hermione actually _wanted_ to help him. No one had shown him kindness such as this. His whole life he had been expected to handle himself; control himself; grow a cold and thick skin; but most of all, take care of himself and accept help from no one. It was shocking to see someone he had tormented for years want to help him.

He didn't know how to react. So instead, he went with instinct and grabbed Hermione's right hand as she turned to walk away, her eyes glistening with tears and her cheeks flushed. She gasped and turned to look at him and met his grey eyes with her wide and confused brown eyes. Draco gently pulled her closer to him.

"But…" Hermione's voice was quiet, stunned. "Draco, you hate me… You've always hated me. I was just a filthy little…" her voice began to shake before she could say the word. "I was just a filthy little mudblood to you." She looked down, her eyebrows pulling together. "Why now?"

Now it was Draco's turn to look down. "Because…" he suddenly realized he had never used her first name either. "Because, Hermione, you're the first person to care. You're the first person who sees that I can't always just take care of myself, by myself, with no one else. Because you want to help and I don't at all understand why. You know that I never would have done the same to you… I mean, before. It's now that I'm understanding that you're not who I thought you were. You may have had all the answers in, uh, _every _class, and you may be a mud- uhm, muggle-born witch, but you're not disgusting or… any of what I called you, and…" Draco had to take a deep breath and swallow his pride for this, "I'm sorry… Hermione."

She still looked shocked. However, her expression quickly softened, and her right hand gently squeezed his left. With her other hand she hesitantly touched his uncovered Dark Mark. "I understand how your family is, but… why would you do _this_? Is this the reason for tonight? For how you're feeling?"

He looked away with a pained expression. In a voice that was almost inaudible, he said, "Yes. This bloody brand; what I have to do; what they want… and…" Draco took a heavy breath and met her eyes, "I thought - at the time - that it would be better than death at the hands of the Dark Lord. He would not grant me a merciful execution."

"Draco," Hermione said, hand still in his, with her other touching his cheek, "you may think yourself a coward for joining them, but - even though the Boy Who Lived; the 'Chosen One,' is one of my best friends - you are by far one of the bravest people I have ever met."

Acting on impulse, she pulled him into a tight embrace and buried her face in his shoulder. Yet again, he was surprised. People didn't _hug _him. People were intimidated. They kept their distance. Out of all people, Hermione Granger, a girl thought to be his enemy, was hugging him and holding his hand. It went on for three long minutes, and, despite himself, Draco found himself wishing it could last longer.

When Hermione broke the hug, she kept their hands joined. He saw she had been crying on his shoulder - though he was sure she tried to hold it back. She smiled at him.

"Come on," she tugged his hand.

Sure that they wouldn't be seen at this late hour, they walked to where access to the Slytherin common room was, down in the dungeons, hand in hand.

"Until next time, Draco," Hermione said, giving him the first genuine smile of hers he had ever seen directed at him.

"Hope so… Hermione," he replied, giving her the least smug smile she had ever seen at all. Draco hesitated for a moment, and then quickly leaned in to kiss her - just a light peck. Her look of shock made his smile a bit more smug now. He let go of her hand to go down to his house common room.

"Sweet dreams," he turned and winked at Hermione.

With blushing cheeks, she scurried off to get back to Gryffindor Tower. What had she gotten herself into?


End file.
